stop pretending
by GeezImSpecial
Summary: His best friend had just attempted to kiss him. He was actually going to let him do it.
1. stop pretending

"what about that one?" Stan asked the boy sitting across from him, nodding his head lazily in the direction of a slender girl. He noisily stuffed a handful of grease-soaked fries into his mouth, waiting patiently as his companion glanced over at the waiter before shaking his head, frowning.

"nah, too…just no." the boy stated firmly, stuffing his own mouth full of fried potato pieces. He swallowed roughly before sighing weakly, pushing his plate away from his side of the table. He let both of his elbows rest on the aged wooden furniture, studying his fingers before looking up again. "I don't really want a girlfriend, Stan; im perfectly happy being your average single guy." the boy confessed, pushing a mess of auburn curls away from his emerald eyes, waiting for Stan's response. Stan stopped mid-chew and rolled his own dark blues, pushing the mashed potato wad down his throat before replying in a somewhat exasperated tone.

"you're lying, Kyle. You haven't had a relationship for, pfft, what? 9 years, at least. that's wayy too long for a dude to not even think about being taken off the market." Stan stated, raising his eyebrows as though this information was obvious. He watched Kyle frown deeply, retracting his body from the table until it slumped, squished and uncomfortable looking, in its seat. Kyle snaked his arms across his chest, upset at how well Stan knew him. He indeed, longed for a relationship, but not with a girl. He knew, deep down, he really only wanted his super best friend, the guy who he never fought with. The guy who knew every little aspect about him and his daily life. He glanced up from the spot he had been studying on the table, eyes falling on the wonder that was Stan marsh. His face was pale and unmarred, no sign of stubble or the occasional pimple. It was the face of a child, young and fresh, yet it also gave off the impression of a strong and intelligent young man; Kyle couldn't begin to describe the wonders of the man before him. Kyle continued to watch him silently, thankful Stan was too interested in his plate of fries to notice his rude manners. He traced the curves of his pink lips, watching as they dipped into a small frown. Kyle found his own lips mirroring the action, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden sign of Stan being unhappy. "why are you staring at my face like that?" Stan asked uncertainly, voice shaking Kyle out of his revere. He watched kyles eyes shoot up to his own, wide as a slight blush rushed to his cheeks.

"y-you've got something r-right here." Kyle stuttered finally, reaching an arm over the table to awkwardly swipe at the imaginary stain on stans face. Unconvinced, Stan continued to watch his lanky friend, shuddering slightly at the cold touch of fingers on his cheek. He watched as the red blooming on kyles face became darker, and cleared his throat, noticing kyles hand had not left his face.

"its getting kind of late…I should get going…" Stan trailed off, standing up from his seat suddenly. Most of the time, the dates (the thought of him and Kyle on a date sent his stomach into a fit of flops, and he clutched at it, wondering if he was catching a cold) he and Kyle shared ended awkwardly, usually Stan being the first to excuse himself and half run to his house. He brushed at the crumbs on his pants, feeling his heart jump as he noticed Kyle watching his hand sweep hurriedly.

_Yes, he was sick…_

His stomach flew wildly against his insides, and he suppressed a groan, wanting to leave as fast as he could.

"why…why don't I go with you? I wouldn't mind walking home…with you." Kyle scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, averting his eyes from stans panicky gaze. Stan usually left so fast Kyle never even had a chance to blink and register what was happening, and maybe this was just the opportunity he needed to see if what he felt for Stan was real, or just in his mind. His oh so confused mind.

"uh..well, sure, I guess. If you want." Stan managed to sputter, oblivious to the eager glint flashing in kyles eyes, the fact he was already halfway to the exit by the end of stans sentence, waiting for the raven haired boy to catch up. Stan swallowed, throat suddenly dry, and followed the slightly shorter boy out of the busy restaurant. He inhaled sharply, the cool night air nipping mercilessly at his exposed skin, snow flakes finding their way into his straight ebony tresses. They walked silently, side by side down the snow covered sidewalk, both expertly hiding the feelings arising from deep within.

Kyle smiled to himself, holding back the sudden waves of giddy giggles that hit him every time his shoulder bumped against stans. He felt stans blue eyes studying side of his face, and did his best to camouflage his grin, feeling the heat rise to his face. He felt foolish for acting this way around best friend, and slightly disgusted with himself as he recalled one should reserve these emotions for hot girls, 'fuckable chicks' as his other friend, Kenny, would so quaintly put it. Stan watched kyles face flush a dark shade of red from the corner of his eye, noticing it almost matched the shade off the redheads askew curls. They fell down in front of his friends infamous green eyes, and Kyle swiped at them, revealing the freckles splayed across his pink cheeks. He unconsciously began to count them, tripping and crashing into the snow over a hidden rock as he hit the 13th one. He spit the snow that filled his agap mouth, pushing himself onto his bottom to face a teary eyed Kyle. Apparently his clumsy facial endangerment was hilarious to Jews, as he listened to his friend gasp for air, chuckles spilling from his smiling lips. "well har har, that was sooo friggin hilarious." Stan growled sarcastically, sending Kyle back into another wave of giggles that had been building up inside of his throat since they left the restaurant. In one swift motion, Stan grabbed kyles flopping arms, and pulled, heaving the boy on top of his body. He watched with a smile as Kyle stopped laughing, and he easily rolled the dumbstruck boy onto his back, placing a hand forcefully on each of his wrists. Kyle laid wide eyed for a moment longer, looking up into the gleaming blue orbs and inch from his own. He felt his voice hitch suddenly in his throat, watched as the smug grin Stan wore twitched at his lack of moment.

_Move, Kyle, move!_

He bucked his legs under stans weight, laughing at the effort. Stans grin returned, and he tightened his hold on the thin wrists, untangling his legs until the straddled the bucking hips below him. His laughter joined kyles in harmony as they rolled in the snow, fighting for dominance in the game they used to play when they were younger. Kyle never was too good at pins, and Stan won once again, laughing through his asthma induced pants at his tired friend.

"I won! Again!" Stan proudly stated, leaning in close to rub his victory in kyles face. Kyle rolled his eyes, but continued to smile, enjoying the fact Stan was so close to him.

"yeah, 'cause I let you win. Otherwise I would have been allll over you." Kyle grinned, breathing the words into stans pale face. Stan felt his smile falter at the words, his heart spasming against his ribs like a caged bird. His stomach rolled along with the beats of his heart, and he felt a blush playing on his numb cheeks.

_Sick, im getting sick._

He pulled himself off of the skinny boy squashed beneath him, nervously sticking a hand out for his friend. Kyle took it hastily and rose to his feet, wondering if he had said something wrong. He swallowed, and dusted the snow from his orange jacket, listening to his heart drum in his chest. He was in love with his best friend, his best _guy_ friend, and oddly enough, he didn't feel as wrong as he first thought. It felt so right, and he was excited by the fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looked up from his dusting and noticed Stan was watching him, hands pushed deep into the pockets of his soaked brown coat. the wind ruffled his dark hair, blowing strands into his eyes. His throat felt dry again, and he swallowed roughly, a fog of tension now think in the air.

"uh…I guess we should keep going. Were almost to your house." Stan muttered against the wind, and Kyle nodded robotically, feeling nervous.

_Stan knows, he knows how I feel…_

No, he snapped at his sudden insecurities, feeling them drift away at his sudden denial. He inhaled deeply, and began to walk in step beside his love, ignoring the curls that jumped into his line of vision. Their shoulders did not touch, and Kyle frowned in disappointment, trudging heavily through the snow until he reached the driveway of his own home. He came to a slow stop, turning to face his shivering friend.

"well…thanks for letting me walk with you…" he started slowly, daring himself to look back into the dark eyes of his friend. They were filled with hesitance, and Kyle felt a crack run through his once fluttering heart. Stan was _afraid_ of him? Since when!

Without thinking, he stepped before built frame of the boy, standing so close their chests bumped into each other with every breath. The usual cloud of white fog that passed stans lips shrunk to a small puff, and he swallowed rough, almost comically. The wind stopped, and the world around them halted, leaving only the 2 boys to move. Stan felt his heart beat fast, and he watched kyles face lean forward slowly, unsure.

_So sick_

He tensed as kyles chest bumped heavily into his, and he felt his friends heart beat in the rhythm of his own; fast, and furiously. kyles face was so close, his usually gleaming emerald eyes fluttering halfway closed. His breath was warm against stans lips, and they twitched, unsure of whether to meet the new pair, or shrink backwards into nothing. He could count kyles freckles again, and he wondered why he was thinking of such a think, why his body wasn't moving ways from the unusual invasion of his person space. He felt the bile rise in his throat, tasting the coppery taste of his recent dinner.

_Sick_

He felt his eyes fluttering closed, felt his own face leaning in to the-

_Sick..im sick.._

Smooth features closing in on his own, lips slightly open as they awaited the touch of another's. the bile climbed, higher, higher-

_Sick…_

_I'm going to be sick!_

He turned his head at the last second, spilling his past meals heavily onto the still falling snow. Kyle jumped back in surprise, narrowly avoiding the aftermath of his close contact with the boy doubled over in front of him. Cautiously, he patted at stans back, watching him straighten up, wiping his mouth slowly.

_Please let me be sick…_

He slowly brought his eyes up to kyles face, settling them on his pink lips. They were so close…

He shuddered again, and decided to focus on the snow beneath him, listening as Kyle cleared his throat.

"thanks Stan. Tonight was a lot of fun. See you tomorrow!" the words were both rushed and robotically enunciated at the same time, and Stan risked a glance northward, just catching a flash of copper curls as they ducked behind the broflovskis front door. His best friend had just attempted to kiss him. He was actually going to let him do it. He threw up. Stan marsh was at a lost for words.

**AN:** my first real attempt at a style-esque story!! you have to tell me how you like it so far!! just a little idea i had to rescue from the cretinous maze that is my mind ) REVIEW OR...ILL KILL KENNY! nothing like a little threat to get what chya need ) lawl. love you guys! ciao!!


	2. Paper Planes

Kyle slammed his front door shut, exhaling deeply as soon as he heard the click of it's lock. He pressed his back against it, letting his shaking body slide down the smooth wood until it crumpled to a pile on the shaggy carpet beneath him. He was silent for a moment, thinking deeply of what had just happened. What he had attempted to do. He knew, deep down, he would have never kissed Stan out there. Well, not unless Stan had wanted to. His recent stunt had just been a simple test, and it appeared to him, Stan had failed miserably in hiding the feelings he possibly possessed for Kyle. The boy had thrown up for god sake, a nervous reflex of his that only acted up when someone he liked was getting close to him.

"_I think I do that because my stomach is trying to get rid of all the butterflies in it…or somethin' gay like that." _a 9-year old Stan mumbled through Kyle's thoughts, and he smiled, remembering Stan's excuse for puking on Wendy Testaburger's googly-eyed face. He closed his eyes and thought some more, seeing Stan's grinning face appear before him, his black tresses falling into his sapphire eyes, covering the smile gleaming within them completely. He groaned lustfully, wishing halfheartedly he and Stan had done something out there, instead of playing with each others emotions. The fact Stan was not his, after all of these years, was enough to drive him insane, and even his school work was beginning to suffer. Granted, it was no help he and Stan shared all of the same classes, so just about every last one of them became Stan Marsh Watching 101, and by the end of the day, he had _no_ idea what any of the teachers had said over the last 8 hours. His mother, Sheila Broflovski, had been more than upset at the discovery of his depleting A's, and demanded to know why he had decided to wait until his senior year to become a, quote, "dumbass". He snapped back, and shrieked that everyone made mistakes, especially the president of the PTA, and she had sent him to his room, yelling that Sheila Broflovski did not make mistakes, and her eldest son would not be the first. He had not left his room the entire day, and the only thing that made him smile was the fact that Stan had called him, and knew just what to say to ease the pain of his mother's words away. He reluctantly opened his eyes, sighing deeply as he pondered if liking Stan was his best move. If anything did develop, he would never have to balls to tell his homophobic mother, or anyone else in this rinky dink town he called home. The soft sound of footsteps dragged him from his deep thoughts, and he felt his senses rise to attention. Wide eyed, he glanced around his dark living room, searching for the source of the soft padding.

"AHHH!" a yell rang sharply through his ears, and he jumped, a surprised squeak escaping from his lips. A shadow stood menacingly over his crouched figure, and he froze, staring into the black shape with wide eyes. "Kyle..?" The voice questioned as a light switch was flipped, spilling brightness into the once dark room. He squinted through the sudden light, discovering the curvy figure that was his mother standing before him, wooden cooking spoon poised above her ruffled red locks. The spoon did not drop from its raised position, and Kyle frowned at her, heart hammering against his ribs.

" H-hey ,mom" he croaked weakly, jumping to his feet as he sensed the anger radiating from beneath the frilly pink nighty his mother dawned. She eyed him suspiciously, lips pursed into a tight lipped frown. The spoon fell in disappointment, and settled onto a nearby shelf, causing Kyle to exhale, slightly relived his mother no longer had her wooden utensil of doom. He winced slightly against her narrowed glare, reading her furious expression even beneath a ton of green avocado goo.

" Where have you been, Mr. Broflovski? And nowhere will not be accepted as an answer!" Sheila demanded, tone cold and accusing as she waited for an explanation.

" N-nowhere, mom. I mean, just hanging out w-with, uh, Stan." Kyle stammered, feeling his face flush in the wait of his mothers reaction. At the mention of Stan's name, Sheila brightened incredibly, a smile spreading rapidly across her masked features.

_Thank. God._

"Oh, Stanley Marsh! Such a good boy, that one…" without a second thought, she turned on her heels, stomping up the set of stairs to her far right, completely forgetting the paralyzed 18 year old pressed against her front door. She had always liked Stan the best of all of her son's friends, being he was the only one even relatively normal. Kenny was odd, most likely due to the fact he spent most of his childhood in poverty until his father bought the millionth bottle of scotch from the local corner store, and was awarded nearly a quarter of a billion dollars. The fact he died every other day, and the way he seemed to eyehump every moving thing within arms length did naught to help the way Sheila viewed him. And that Eric Cartman! He had always been her least favorite, being the racist, conniving son-of-a-whore he was when he was younger. He had changed, but that was only due to the fact he was nearly beaten to death by the boy he called "Butters" a while back, pretty much cured of his cocky attitude. Yes, Stanley was the best of all the boys, though he did have a few of his own "quirks".

Kyle waited until he heard his parents bedroom door close before he sprinted up the stairs himself, half flying into the safety of his room. Cautiously, he closed his own door, and stepped around piles of dirty clothes, gently slipping out of his jacket and pants. Once clothed in only a tee and his plaid boxers, he yawned thickly and clambered onto his unmade bed, finding a wrinkled blanket and throwing it over his shivering frame, allowing his face to crash into his pillow. Within minutes, he was asleep, snoring slightly through the silence surrounding him, half of his face buried into his pillow. In a rough of 6 hours, he would confront Stan.

It was dark and silent, and Stan relished the fact he had his warm home all to himself. The last thing he wanted was to be bombarded with questions; _"where have you been!?" _or his favorite, _"what were you doing for so long? Nothing good, that's for sure!" _He rolled his eyes, his usual response to his mothers insistent prodding for information, and shut his front door firmly behind him, dusting the snow flakes from his moist brown sweater. He listened to the growls echoing from his stomach, grumbling along as he kicked off his soaked boots, dragging himself in agitated exhaustion to his kitchen. His hand searched for the light switch before giving up, blindly stumbling to the fridge stocked with semi-healthy goods. After a moment of hardcore decision making, he chose a reddened apple, and made his way back out of the kitchen, yawning grandly. Swiftly, he jogged up a flight of stairs to his lonely bedroom, immediately shimmying out of his moist clothes. He snatched a pair of sweats and a balled up tee off of his cluttered wooden floor, not really caring how bad they smelled. Usually his mother would have protested the mess that was his room, but she and his father weren't home, and wouldn't be for a week, so he didn't really have to worry. He bounded through garbage scattered carelessly across his floor, and jumped for his bed, tripping on a worn sneaker halfway there and landing on a greasy pizza box instead. He cursed mildly under his breath, pushing himself to his feet with little effort and continuing to flop onto his made bed, bouncing into the air momentarily before settling comfortably on the blue sheets. He stared thoughtfully at his bumpy ceiling, watching with mild interest as the bumps seemed to form images and shapes. It wasn't long before Kyle entered his thoughts, and he felt his cheeks grow hot, remembering how close he had been to his face. He wasn't exactly sure what to think about the whole thing.

_Did that mean Kyle was…gay? For me?_

He snorted at how ludicrous the thought was, and brought the apple to his face, lips kissing against the smooth skin before biting into it thickly. He couldn't help but notice the squirming feeling occurring from deep in his stomach, the way his heart raced when he thought of he and Kyle…together. He imagined it would be pretty easy to like such a boy-

_No, I don't like boys!_

Granted, Kyle was amazing in every way possible. He was funny, smart, and not exactly what you'd describe as "ugly". Stan groaned aloud, rolling onto his stomach and letting his chin rest on his pillow. He yawned once more, attempting to think clearly through the whirlwind that was his mind. Kyle was tall and fit, toned through track and basketball. He was sensitive and understanding, but he also had the shortest temper Stan had ever known. But that's just what made him Kyle, Stan's best friend since before they could properly pronounce Kyle's last name. Stan wasn't exactly sure he wanted to ruin that. He tossed the half finished apple in a nearby wastebasket, no longer hungry, and shifted until he was safely under his bed covers. He let his eyes droop, and smiled as he saw Kyle's face before his closed eyes, smiling at him with straight, ivory teeth. The copper curls he adorned bounced freely into his eyes, and Kyle laughed, eyes squinting through his giggles. Stan felt his heart leap in his chest, felt himself getting sick again, and he knew what was happening to him. He liked his best friend, loved him, even, and he was going to try and win his heart. He snuggled his blushing cheek deeper into his pillow, allowing his hair to cover his face like a mask.

_I'm in love with Kyle Broflovski._

He allowed the darkness of exhaustion to envelope him in warm arms, feeling his mind slow along with his breaths.

_And I think he likes me back._

His smiled through his snores, and for the first time in nearly a month, he slept well.

**AN: woo! chapter 2! yay! i've had kyles part written for a while now..it took me about 2 days just to choose on what stan should do in order to "discover" his love for kyle ) lol. well, PLEASE REVIEW!! for those of you who have, you dont know how much it means to me!! thank you so much you guys, i love you all!**

**p.s review and you get a shiny gold sticker! gasp, i know, amazing and totally worth your time, right?! so go click that button!!**


	3. Goodnight, Goodnight

Stan woke with a start, heart pounding heavily in his chest. He propped himself up on his elbows, glancing around until he decided he really was in the safety of his own room. He fell back against his ruffled covers and let his eyes drift closed, sinking deep into his pillow. He couldn't wait until morning. He needed to talk to Kyle _now._ He rolled out of bed, hissing as his bare feet met the icy wooden floor before crawling frantically into nearby sneakers . Blindly, he stumbled around his dark room, groping for his door before slipping silently into the deserted hallway. He stumbled down the hall, until he reached the stairs, plopping carefully on the railing before sliding down to his living room. It was much faster than breaking his neck because he couldn't see crap. Stan stifled a yawn, brushing hair from his eyes before jumping down from the wooden railing, moonlight spilling into his home. He swayed on his toes, wondering if confronting Kyle was the best idea, if maybe he should just stay home and not do anything too irrational. As clear as day, he saw Kyle's face, his many freckles, the way his smile made everything else seem so dull. He grabbed his coat off of the ground and pushed himself out the door, greeted by a slap in the face from mother nature. Snow swirled crazily around him, and the wind nipped mercilessly at his exposed skin, but he continued on his 2 block path, deciding mentally that Kyle was worth it all.

_What are you even going to say?_

He frowned as he realized he had no clue what he planned on telling Kyle.

"_Hey dude. Yeah, I was just stopping by at 2:43 in the morning to tell you I'm _totally_ gay for you. Let's make crazy sex!" _

Stan frowned to himself. No, that probably wouldn't be the best idea. He listened to the snow crunch crisply beneath his sneakers, and licked his dry lips, mind reeling. He pushed his hands hastily into his pockets and stumbled through the snow, crossing the completely covered street, his heart pounding. It beat a steady drum against his ribcage, and the bile crawled up his throat, making him wish he wasn't such a nervous person.

_1 block, three more houses to go…_

He reduced his speed to an upright crawl and closed his eyes, blocking out everything surrounding him.

_Take a deep breath, and quit giving yourself a fucking heart attack!_

Stan inhaled deeply, exploding into a serious of coughs as the icy air entered his throat, choking on stray snowflakes. His eyes watered, and he glanced at the houses he passed until he finally reached his destination, snow grouped heavily on the olive roof. He found himself choking again, but this time out of fear. He stood, a hacking shadow on the white blanket of snow beneath him. Cautiously, he started up the familiar driveway, his head pounding harshly. He reached the now intimidating front door, hand poised in the air to announce his unexpected arrival. He paused suddenly, and withdrew his clenched fist, stepping back off of the porch. Sheila Broflovski and 2:47 am did not go well together. He sighed and glanced from Kyle's closed window to the ancient tree planted in his front lawn, tall enough to tickle the glass with frozen branches. Grumbling, he sauntered across the frozen grass, leaning his head back to take in the trees true height. If anything were to happen to him up in that tree, he'd probably die before he even splattered on the snowy lawn. He'd witnessed Kenny's demise over and over again, many,_ many,_ times.

…

But Kyle was worth it.

_**Tap**_

_**Tap tap**_

Kyle frowned in his sleep, burying his head further into his drool covered pillow. He was not the kind of person you'd want to wake up when he was having his.. dream. The noise ceased, and he sunk back into his slumber, sighing happily.

_Stan stared back at him, sapphire eyes gleaming beautifully from Kyle's window sill._

"_I love you." The words whispered effortlessly from between his pink lips, and he smiled widely, his dark hair fluttering into his eyes. Kyle felt his heart jump, and he sat straighter in his messy bed, planting his feet on the cold ground. Gently, he glided over to his window and stuck his head out into the chilly night air, a shy grin stretching across his freckled cheeks. He leaned forward and kissed Stan passionately on the lips, toes curling at the taste of Stan's tongue in his mouth. After a moment, they parted, both heaving and pink in the cheeks._

"_I lo-"_

_**Tap tap**_

_**Tap**_

Kyle's eyes flew open, ablaze with a frustrated flame. He stiffened under his blanket, and narrowed his eyes in the darkness, searching for the source of the noise so he could beat the crap out of it.

_**Tap**_

The window. He threw the covers off of his boxer clad body, half stomping to the shining frame of glass.

And then he saw him.

Kyle gasped loudly, and resisted the urge to slap his hand to his mouth. Stan waved at him frantically from a tree branch, his hands making a bunch of motions at once. Kyle stared back at his wide eyed friend quizzically, one eyebrow raised as he listened to his beating heart. A loud crack brought his attention to the branch Stan straddled precariously, and Kyle saw it was getting ready to break off. Yelping, he ran to the window, flinging it open and extending his arms to his falling friend.

"Thank god!!" Stan shrieked, jumping blindly from the breaking branch to his man crush's open arms. The branch fell to the ground with a heavy thump, and Stan winced, realizing he could have been under it, crushed like a beetle on the lawn. He grasped onto Kyle and breathed in his familiar scent, the one that make Stan feel weak in the knees. He nuzzled his half-frozen cheek against Kyle's warm chest, and listened to his heart quiver just as fast as he felt his own beat.

God, he loved that boy.

"Stan?" Kyle whispered softly, biting his lower lip as he ignored his yearnings to kiss the boy all over his shaking body . He had only wanted his attention, not for him to scream like a madman and jump back out his second story window.

"Yeah..?" Stan whispered back, face flushing a rosy color as he glanced at Kyle from behind his ebony bangs, resisting the urge to stare at Kyle's exposed chest. Kyle's breath shuttered for a moment, and Stan guessed he had probably noticed his staring problem.

" What are you doing here?"

Stan suddenly wanted to laugh, laugh so hard he'd probably give himself an asthma attack. Again. He backtracked to Kyle's window sill and plopped down, chuckling under his breath. Kyle felt like this had all happened before. Stan stared dreamily out the window, watched as the snow swirled angrily around the ancient tree.

"Kyle…"

_How to put this newfound love subtly…_

Kyle gulped loudly and nodded in the darkness, mentally slapping himself across the forehead when he noticed Stan wasn't even looking at him, nor expecting a response.

Stan looked away from the window before locking eyes with Kyle's wide ones, sapphire to emerald.

" I love you." Stan spoke shakily, his heart pounding so fast he figured he'd probably die before he even got to hear Kyle's disgusted response. The air grew still, and Kyle stared.

Just stared. Now he knew this had all happened before. It happened every other night, deep in his sleeping thoughts. Stan stared back at him uneasily.

_There goes super best fucking fr-_

Kyle ran across the room at a lightning pace, capturing Stan's pink lips gently between his own, not giving the boy time to breath. Stan stiffened before melting against Kyle's hands on his cheeks, the way he didn't taste like sticky cherry lip-gloss or whatever the fuck girl's wore these days. He tasted perfect, familiar. He tasted like home.

And then the kiss was over.

"sorry.." Kyle spoke softly, reluctantly drawing his hand from Stan's red cheek. He wiped furtively at the corners of his mouth, and fought the urge to jump in the air and bang his heels against one another in the infamous victory dance. He'd kissed Stan, and that's all he had really wanted for a _long_ time.

" no, no! I kind of…hoped you'd do that." Stan rubbed at the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward. Kyle giggled to himself before placing a hand on Stan's shaking shoulder, looking down at him with rosy cheeks.

"wanna kick it here tonight? It looks pretty bad out there." Stan nodded silently and kicked off his shoes, stripping down to his undershirt and plaid boxers, pausing before jumping under Kyle's messy covers. He peeked shyly from beneath the blankets at Kyle, and patted the side he specifically left for Kyle. Kyle smiled and jumped on the lanky boy, both giggling as he tickled him viciously.

"Kyle, stop! I'm g-gonna pee! Ill do an-any-ha-anything!!" Stan huffed between laughter, tears running down his grinning cheeks. Kyle paused for a moment, placing a finger on his chin, hmming loudly.

"anything you say? I might have to take you up on that offer!" he grinned and rolled off of Stan's stomach, pulling the covers up to his eyes and staring slyly at the boy next to him. He thought for a moment longer before smirking, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"tomorrow. You'll find out what your going to do tomorrow." Kyle closed his eyes and rolled onto his side, facing away from the suddenly nervous Stan.

This couldn't be good.

**A/N:**

IM SORRY!! i know this took forever, and im sooo sorry! ive had nonstop homework, and im a freshman in highschool (which started last week), and on top of that my fishy died wah! lol. its weird though, because out of all four of my fish, kenny died...huh. coincidence? REVIEW AND YOU SHALL HAVE MY UNCONDITIONAL LOVE!! aha, that you can't refuse peace, homies!

p.s my love comes with cookies ahwinkwink

that'll gettcha!


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